


Butter and Honey

by pearl_o



Series: Butter and Honey [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Domestic, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which relationships are hard work, and Charles is not a wicked stepmother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butter and Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pocky_slash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/gifts).



> Happy birthday to my darling pocky_slash!

"I didn't say that I worked harder than you," Erik said, the irritation in his voice obvious even over the phone, "just that your schedule is a lot more flexible than mine is."

"I think we both know what you said and what you meant," Charles said sourly. He made a final turn around the kitchen, taking a juice box and a baggie of grapes from the fridge and throwing them in his bag before he grabbed his keys off the counter.

"Right," Erik said, "because we both know how good you are at reading people in situations like this."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Charles snapped.

"Your telepathy doesn't work over telephone lines, Charles."

"Are you seriously starting this discussion now? Like this? I don't think over-reliance on our abilities is a can of worms you want to open right now, Erik-"

"You're right," Erik interrupted. He sounded tired, all of a sudden. "I didn't mean it like that."

Charles let out a slow breath. "It's fine. It's just - we'll talk when you get home, all right? I'm running out the door right now."

"Yeah, of course. I'll see you tonight. Bye."

"Bye," Charles said. He ended the call, slipped his phone into his pocket, and headed out to the car.

* * *

The first thing Anya said to him when he got to the daycare - before any sort of greeting, even - was "Where's Daddy?" 

"He has to work late tonight, button," Charles said. "It's just us this afternoon, okay?" He gave her a wide smile.

Anya pouted. The disappointment in her mind was so strong it almost made Charles's head ache. She gave him a hug anyway, though, clutching to his leg until he picked her up. She was getting a little big to be carried like this, Charles thought; it took a lot more effort than it had even just a few months ago.

Charles could remember when he and Erik had only been dating for a few months, back when they were first getting serious, and how excited Anya used to be to see him. Sometimes she'd even ignore Erik to climb into Charles's lap, show off her toys and drawings, seeking out all his attention. It had been pretty gratifying to Charles's ego, even though he knew it was just a matter of his being fascinating because of his newness. As much as he knew Anya loved him now, it still felt like a downgrade sometimes, going from "New Friend" to "Not Daddy."

He buckled her carefully into the carseat. The CD of kids' songs was still in the stereo, so he put it on for her. When he glanced into the rearview mirror at stop signs and lights, she was singing softly to herself, off-key, and staring out the window.

They had to stop at the grocery store. Charles despised grocery shopping, but they were out of milk, and bread, and cereal, and toilet paper, and - well, needs must. 

Anya wanted to walk, for once, and so they crossed the parking lot at a glacial pace, due to the combination of her small legs and the frequent pauses they had to take for her to admire every new car they passed on the way. When they got to the store entrance, Anya rejected the first two shopping carts before allowing Charles to seat her in the third. He suspected she was imitating her father; Erik could be picky about that sort of thing, but that was only because he could sense the metal of the frames, guess which ones were squeaky or had a stuck wheel. She could parrot the action, but not understand the logic behind it.

"Can I have candy?" Anya said as they went down the aisles. She reached out her hands to the products on the shelves, not grabbing them, but petting them lightly as she and Charles wheeled by.

"No," Charles said firmly.

"Please?"

"No."

She scowled, narrowing her eyes at him. " _Daddy_ would let me."

This was, of course, a bald-faced lie, and an impressive one at that. Sometimes Charles had to admire her moxie. It would be so much easier to just buy her the things she wanted - it wasn't like they couldn't afford it, and it made her so _happy_ \- but Erik was firm about these things. 

"You can't just give into her always, Charles," Erik had yelled, during their first big fight after moving in together. 

"Why not?" Charles said in response, which just caused Erik to snort.

"You need to worry less about whether she _likes_ you all the time," Erik had said, his voice gentling almost imperceptibly, and he'd wrapped his arms around Charles from behind and hugged him close. "It's okay if she doesn't. That's part of being a parent."

 _There's nothing wrong with wanting to be liked_ , Charles had thought, immediately followed by _Oh, god, I'm a_ parent _now_ \- the latter earning him Erik's quiet laughter and a long kiss.

"I'll tell you what," Charles said now, in the grocery store, "since it's just you and me tonight, you can pick out dinner, okay?"

"Candy for dinner!" Anya said.

"Okay, no," Charles said. "How about macaroni and cheese? Or chicken nuggets?"

"Nuggets," Anya cried, slamming her hands down on the cart's handle in her excitement.

They were in the produce section, picking out oranges, when Charles heard his own name. Generally, in public, he wasn't too affected by other people's thoughts, but there was something about people thinking directly about you that was incredibly hard to ignore.

_Oh god, is that Professor Xavier? What is he doing at the grocery store like a regular person? Seeing teachers in public is so weird. I wonder if he's graded our midterms yet. Is that his kid? Is he even old enough to have a kid? Is he married? Ugh, I hope he doesn't look over. I don't even know if I'm supposed to make eye contact or just pretend I didn't see him._

Charles wanted to bury his face in his hands, but he resisted the urge. Running across students was always a little awkward; he wasn't entirely sure how they managed to get to university age and still find seeing teachers outside outside of their classrooms to be a shocking and notable event. Of course, the amount of awkwardness depended largely on the student (some of them were perfectly capable of a polite and friendly greeting and perhaps some small talk) and the location (it seemed rather more jarring for them to see his family on the sidewalks at last summer's Pride than grabbing a latte in a coffee shop). 

At any rate, he very carefully continued to select oranges, politely not looking over in the direction of the student.

"I think that's it, button," Charles said to Anya. She was starting to look a little tired already; he estimated she would be sucking her thumb by the time they got home, which was a dead giveaway. He should have stayed to ask more questions to the daycare instructors about her day, whether she'd had a good nap, all of that other stuff, but he'd just been in a hurry to get away. He always felt a bit of a fraud in front of them, anyway. "You ready to go home?"

Anya nodded silently. He smiled at her and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

* * *

It was past eleven when Erik got home. Charles had planned to spend the evening reading term papers, but after dinner, bathtime, a half hour of playing with Matchbox cars, one episode of Dora the Explorer, and two picture books read aloud, he'd fallen into bed not so very long after he finally got Anya to sleep. 

He woke up at the sounds of Erik's arrival, though, the garage door opening and squeaking stairs and clink of metal being played with. He followed Erik's mind around the house as he went through his homecoming rituals: laying his briefcase on the dining room table, toeing off his shoes in the middle of the hall even though he knew how much Charles hated that, eating leftovers straight from the container over the kitchen sink. Charles was still groggy, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep while Erik was still up and moving. 

_Come to bed_ , Charles thought.

 _Five minutes_ , Erik sent back to him.

It was more like ten. Erik entered their bedroom, stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed beside Charles. Charles turned toward him without even thinking about it, his head tucking up against Erik's shoulder, his arm automatically throwing itself into its regular position across Erik's chest. 

"Missed you," Erik said, his breath coming out soft against Charles's hair.

Charles shivered a little. "Oh, shut it," he said fondly.

"I don't know how I survived. Every moment without you two is hell," Erik said. Outwardly he sounded completely serious; he was ridiculously good at his straight face, keeping his amusement tucked inside his mind. Sometimes Charles was sure he was the only person who could understand Erik's sense of humor. Non-telepaths just couldn't appreciate how funny he could be.

"That's a shame," Charles said, "because the two of us had a marvelous time without you. We didn't notice you were gone. Although Anya did ask me if there used to be a tall man who lived with us, but I told her she had to be imagining things."

"You're a cruel man, Charles Xavier."

"And yet you love me that way." Erik's mind reflected back a wry acknowledgment. Charles shifted, pushing himself up just enough to press their mouths together in a brief kiss. "We read some fairy tales before bed. Tomorrow you get the honor of convincing your daughter of the many, many reasons why I am not her wicked stepmother."

"You couldn't do that?"

"If someone is going to break her cherished illusions, I feel it should be you." Charles yawned. "I'm going back to sleep now, if you don't mind."

"And what if I did?" Erik said.

"Then I would trust that you had a very, very good reason of asking that of me," Charles said, "and I would stay awake to see what it was."

Erik was quiet for a moment. He was sending out a wordless thought, soothing like a warm bath, appreciative and soft. "No need to sacrifice yourself tonight," he said. "Sleep. You need all the help you can get for your lectures tomorrow."

"Don't tell me what to do," Charles murmured, but he closed his eyes and he was drifting off almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Peanut Butter and Honey (The Fairytale Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/824816) by [pocky_slash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/pseuds/pocky_slash)




End file.
